His Marks

His Marks 

Everyday, prior to opening the doors of my place of employment, I say a quick prayer and it goes something like this; "Dear Lord, be with me every step of the way, speak through me, guide me, protect me and help me show them who you are throughout my day."  Sometimes I say this prayer in my car before I escape it's protection and often times as I walk to the building. Either way, I do not feel I could do my job without asking for help each morning.  As I enter my office, I take a deep breath and begin.  The phone rings and I hear their voices.  I converse with terminally ill people and their families all day long, eight often times nine hours a day.  

I do not see their faces, their expressions, their frail bodies nor do I see the conditions in which they are living, but I hear their voices.  Some of the people to whom I speak with are living in pure fear, anxiety, anger and often times feel the betrayal by their loved ones and by their God.   

I listen.

Some people I talk to throughout my day are those living with hope, gentleness and patience of what to come in their end days.

I listen.

Each day I converse with many different people from many different backgrounds, of many different races, culture and socio-economic status and with various emotions from bouts of yelling, crying and to often times, words of gratefulness and wisdom from those that are dying.  I try to place myself in their shoes, but ultimately, I cannot.  They are experiencing a life altering, life changing, and end to their life here on earth.  I am not them and I do not pretend to be, but I do... listen. 

When I leave those doors each day I am emotionally exhausted.  My emotions are usually all over the place ranging from anger to sadness.  Sometimes I spiral out of control when I arrive home often times placing those emotions onto my family.  They do not understand, but they listen.  

All of the people that I speak with each day are transitioning from the conflict of what has been known on this earth and the dying to self to the coming into the unknown, the full communion with Christ. They are learning to fully surrender themselves to Christ to the gateway of heaven. And in this deliverance into the gateway of heaven the gravity of earth and all of the earthy memories are playing tug of war with them and their loved ones.  

I listen.

As I enter into my work place asking God to help me to help them, I leave thanking God for them actually helping me.  Each day God placed a mark on me by each of the people I encountered by conversation.  I rarely end a phone conversation without someone giving me 'words of wisdom' and blessings. They are dying to self and prayer is their only priority.  They have become totally dependent on God. 

The people that I encounter remind me of the Cheetah.  Often times they are swift in to kill in their harsh words with me and in other times graceful in their strength to surrender.  The strength and the majestic marks of the Cheetah also remind me of what God gives us each day.  He gives us gentleness, patience, humility, compassion, and kindness and he is swift to come to our aid granting us protection and strength to our day.    It is in the course of prayer that we learn the true state of things-that we are dependent upon God.

The marks on Christ after his Crucifixion places a mark on us.  This mark is a constant reminder of his love for us.  

The mark on Christ is a mark of true surrender.

James 4:7-8 "So then, submit yourselves to God.  Resist the Devil, and he will run away from you.  Come near to God and he will come near to you."

Hallelujah

Two weeks ago I sang praises of Hallelujah to my God. 

I broke bread with my daughter for the first time in nine months.

My daughter walked away from our family and God nine months ago.

My daughter left no forwarding address.

My daughter has been dancing blind folded with the devil.

My daughter can't see his evil ways.  The devil is good, very good at disguising his evil ways.

My heart aches for my daughter.  I looked into her eyes the morning we broke bread and I cried.  No tissue could wipe away all of the tears that fell that morning.  Tears of joy and pain.  The pain is raw, indescribable.

My heart is vulnerable, constantly reminiscing of our times together, hopeful wishing that again our hearts will be reunited, as well as our family.

My heart aches because she walked away for God and is dancing with all of the earthly temptations.

My heart feels betrayal.  Betrayal from her and from the company in which she keeps. 

My heart sang hymns of hallelujah for God's blessing that joyous day.  I looked into her eyes and saw my little girl.  She has beautiful  eyes.  I melt when I look into her eyes. All the pain goes away for that moment when I see her eyes.  She allowed me to see her eyes.  For this I am thankful.

In all of my unworthiness, God gave me the gift to see my daughter again.

I do not know when I will see her again. 

I will sing continuous praises of hallelujah to my God for this day.  God gave me hope.

This day will be a new memory and blessing that God has given me.

Each day I pray she will be in the arms of God.  I am hopeful that she will walk with Him again, hand in hand.  He will open his arms to her and she will fall into them and we will all sing praises of hallelujah to God this up and coming day.

Each day I pray she will cleanse herself of sin and bathe in the waters of her baptism with God and her church. 

Praise God in his holy sanctuary;
     give praise in the mighty dome of heaven.
Give praise for his might deeds,
     praise him for his great majesty.
Give praise with blasts upon the horn,
     praise him with harp and lyre.
Give praise with tambourines and dance,
     praise him with flutes and strings.
Give praise with crashing cymbals,
     praise him with sounding cymbals.
Let everything that has breath
     give praise to the Lord!
            HALLELUJAH!
                  Psalm 150 1-6


I pray that my daughter's actions will be transformed
into to a graceful butterfly.
I pray she will soar with simplicity, grace and peace.
I pray for her transformation and a rebirth in Christ.
I pray as she takes flight, that her flight will bring her home
with her family and with her God.  Amen.

Plumbing Problems

        
I woke up this morning only to find out that all three of my bathrooms, in different parts of my home had flooded.  I stayed up late last night, around 12:30, a behavior of mine that is becoming a habit only to wake by 5:30 to get ready for work. Five hours is not enough sleep for me to produce work for 8 hours.  By mid afternoon I am exhausted.  Trying to keep my head from hitting my desk and drool from escaping my mouth has become an exercise in itself. I may be exaggerating a bit, but I do have to create a strategy so I do not inadvertently go to sleep.

As much as I hate being tired in the day, I do enjoy staying up late.  My neighborhood is quiet, everyone in my house is asleep, with the exception of a few howls by my beloved dog and the quietness gives way for some really one on one time with God.

Last night prior to bedtime I prayed that God would cleanse me of negative thoughts.  I ask him to help me start the day with a shield of armor to protect me so the devil would not steal my joy.  I wanted to flush away all my fears and remove anything that would possibly hold me back from doing His will. 

This morning as I arose from my short, but deep slumber, I was anything, but happy. I could not determine where the water was coming from nor could I figure out why God had decided of all days, that this needed to be the day to flood my home. I was angry and quick tempered, mostly because I did not have enough sleep and I also knew I would have to stay home to deal with this issue.  

I called two very trusted neighbors/friends and was given a name of a good plumber.  At 7:00 in the morning I called a plumber and by 9:30 he had arrived and discovered that my pipes under my home had broke.  There were tree roots growing through the pipes and they had shifted and in order fro the plumber to fix the problem he was going to have to replace my pipes by digging under my home.  Our home sits on a concrete slab. 

The plumber showed me through the camera that went through the pipes the breakage of the pipes and showed me how the pipeline is not straight.  It was jagged and curved and thorny by the roots of the trees that had grown into the pipes and there was no longer a straight line, but rather pipes broken in pieces and twisted.  It was a sight to be seen, one of which I had never saw until now.  

The plumber stated that he would get someone to my home today to help him get this problem repaired. I am without water for awhile.  The price tag is very expensive, at least in my pocketbook.  

I started praying again.  I was trying to figure out what God had in mind for me today. It probably meant nothing, but I listened to God as the plumber left, my husband went back to work and I just sat and listened.  

As I was relating these pipes to my life, God explained it in a very simple way for my understanding.  The pipes under my house were filled with gunk and or sins.  My heart was the same.  Both pipes and heart have to be cleansed.  If the pipes get cleared the water will run freely.  If I clear my heart, I will be free to accept God's will for me.  He is my pipeline.  I can go to God through all the twists and turns in my life and climb over all the roots and thorns and take detours, but there is always a straight and simple pipeline to him and that is through His love for us.  By getting the pipeline free and clear of all the gunk and sins in our life we will be able to experience God's loving presence in our life and He will pour His Spirit unto to us.  We need a channel for His Love and this channel is crucial.   

These clogged, twisted and broken pipes under my house are a reminder to me of how important we need to be free of sin.  The channel to God's love is good plumbing to the heart.  

It seems all to extreme to have my pipes clogged in order for me to get the big picture today.  I guess I'm that kind of girl.  I never get the subtle hints that God gives me.  I have to have a huge plumbing bill and no water in order to understand the message he is trying to give me. 

"Love the LORD your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him, For the LORD is your life."  Deuteronomy 30:20

So for today, "Away goes trouble, down the drain.............."

Where's My Passion

Passion: A strong feeling about something which could be enthusiasm, excitement or possibly anger that causes you to act in a certain way.  A conviction or emotion (which there are many) about something or someone in particular.  

I'd like to think that I have many passions, some of which I have denied myself lately.  One of those passions that I have denied most recently is the ability to find time to sit, think, pray and write.  It (writing) has become frozen in time, a ramification if you will, due to many unforeseen circumstances that have positioned themselves more important in my life. 

My attention has been directed towards my family and all of life's precarious events which brought about many twists and turns in my journey towards God. I don't believe I disregarded my passion for writing, it just became less important or perhaps I put less emphasis on it in a certain moment in time.  

In my journey with God, I have staggered, clambered and hobbled in my moments of despair with Him and with the many obstacles that were brought into the life of my family.  Walking with God would have been much easier in these really challenging moments, and I can say, I did walk with him at times, but I also chose to adventure away from Him. I'm not proud to address my weakness. Admitting my weakness is humbling and in addressing my weakness I become vulnerable and in that vulnerability I am confronted with the very pain that that made me turn away.  

I am a mother.  A mother four times over. A mother that loves her family with a genuine passion.  A passion that is so deep, so misunderstood, so raw that the only one that could possibly understand my passion is my God.  When my children hurt, I hurt.  When my children laugh, I laugh. In all the emotions of a child, young or old, a mother feels it twice. God feels it too.  We are His children.  

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 

I read this verse very slowly.  And each time, at different times in my life, I try to understand the depth of His love for me and you. I know without a doubt that when I am in pain, God too is in pain.  When I am smiling, he smiles, as well.  He is my Father as is yours.  My children do not understand the debts of my pain when they are in pain and joy that I have when they are happy. I do not understand the pain and joy I give God.  

For now, I am sitting, writing and praying once again to my Father, letting him know that in all my pain and joy I too love him.